


The Tower, Free

by tnnyoh



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnnyoh/pseuds/tnnyoh
Summary: Elizabeth turns away from destroying Comstock and takes a chance at Paris with the only friend she has ever known.





	1. Run Away

"Let's just go... Elizabeth, please... Let's just go to Paris" Booker said desperately "Forget about Comstock" 

 

"I can't" She said shortly, "Booker, you have no idea the hell that man put me through, not just the past months, but my entire life... He destroyed who I was, he took everything from me, and he  **has**  to pay." 

 

Booker's heart ached for her, he felt like he was choking on his sympathy. He reached out to her "Elizabeth, I know... that I came here for a deal, but I don't care about it anymore, I owe you so much more than I ever owed anyone in New York, You come with me to Paris, We leave all this behind, start new lives.... Please"

 

He saw it in her eyes, she was thinking, she was considering it..... 

 

"I'm so tired, Booker. I just want to rest"  She looked once more at Comstock house, she looked again at Booker walked away from both of them.  Booker felt his heart shut up in his throat for a minute before he saw what she was doing.  

 

Opening a tear....

 

He saw it, flickering in it's strange blue and grey, through it, he saw the Eiffel Tower.  Elizabeth turned to him and offered him her hand "Let's go to Paris" 


	2. Go Back

"I keep thinking about Comstock," She said one morning, Booker didn't bother putting his paper down.  Every time she brought up Comstock, he felt like she was slipping away from him, from her own innocence that she had when he first met her.   He couldn't say a word about it, he didn't want her to be angry.   
  
When they walked through the tear she opened to Paris, Booker didn't look back, not once, he had nothing left for himself in New York, or Columbia, or any of those other crazy places he had seen with Elizabeth.   But she, she turned her head back and he knew she was full of regret.   
  
_Goddammit Elizabeth_ , he thought. He should have just taken her to Paris from the beginning, he shouldn't have ever bothered with the debt, Elizabeth deserved to be saved to have her life back, she deserved that.  Fuck.  Why was he so selfish?  All she wanted was to go to Paris, and by the time they go, it's all too late.   
  
"What about?" He asked despite himself  
  
She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her eyes a little bit, the sun glinting off her thimble as she did this.  "I don't know," She said, stirring her tea a little listlessly.  "I just.... I just wonder" She stopped short of completing her sentence.  
  
When Booker broke Elizabeth free of her restraints, when he saved her from songbirds protection and destroyed that prison that Comstock calls a tower... He had no idea what he had done to her, He wanted to ask... But he couldn't find the words, or the time... Or the mental stability to handle whatever the answer was.   
  
He remembered Elizabeth from the other time, the older one, the one who looked like she had lived through hell but was still firmly planted in the middle of it.  Comstock wanted to turn Elizabeth into him, a new version of him, an heir he could train to think like he did.    
  
That son of a bitch.   He deserved to pay for what he did to Elizabeth.  
  
"Elizabeth, you always talked about wanting to be here, in Paris... Just forget Comstock" He said gently, she looked at him "I'm sorry Booker, I think a part of me will always be stuck in that tower"  
  
She was right, of course, he knew that she was... He was just so desperate to get her to smile like she used to, he hadn't seen her excited about anything in such a long time... He felt responsible for that.  "I can't... even begin to imagine, Elizabeth-"  She reached over and touched his hand, shaking her head "Let's not talk about this, lets... let's go for a walk"  
  
Walking in Paris was always nice, Booker thought he wouldn't like living here but he warmed up to it quickly, things became routine.  The weather was nice here at least.   He walked with Elizabeth through the same routes they walked each evening.  At first, she had to drag him on walks, but a lot of the time he was just screwing around pretending like it wasn't something he wanted to do.   
  
"Everything that's happened," She said thoughtfully, stopping on the bridge and staring out over the lake "I never thought I'd be here in Paris"  
  
"Doesn't seem like you've been enjoying it much"  Shut up Booker he thought stop trying to cause trouble just because you're unhappy  
  
Was he unhappy? He supposed he was always unhappy at his core, always filled with self-loathing over the things he had done.   Elizabeth kept him away from the bottle, but not by much.   One night he remembered her sitting by the fire, her arms crossed and an expression on her face, one unreadable.  He had woken up because of the smell of the logs in the fire and he thought there was trouble.  He remembered coming down and seeing her there and she just looked at him and said something he never expected  
  
"If you start drinking again, I will never be able to forgive you"  She stared back at the fire "Booker, the things you have done cannot be erased by drinking, you are a better man than that"  He shook his head sadly at her but this made her angrier.  
  
"No!" She shouted "No, not this. You are a better man than that.  What's the difference between the poison of hate and the poison of alcohol?"   
  
"Alcohol tastes better" He had said, ugh, why was he such a damn idiot?   
  
Lost in thought, he lost track of what Elizabeth was saying and he shook himself, trying to focus again "Booker?" Elizabeth asked, "Are you even listening to me?"   
  
"I am, I'm sorry. I'm just... thinking"  
  
Elizabeth and Booker watched the lake in silence from the bridge, they had been in Paris for nearly a month now, but Elizabeth still didn't seem happy, and Booker was desperate and looking for a way to stiffen the hatred that coursed through his every being.   
  
"Thinking about what?"  She asked, her eyes never leaving the lake  
  
 _How I'd give 50$ for a good god damn bottle of alcohol right now_  
  
"Elizabeth, I think I need.... I don't know..."   
  
"Therapy?" Elizabeth offered  
  
Much to her surprise, he started chuckling.  He didn't laugh often but there was something about Elizabeth's witty remark that got him.   
  
"Wow," Elizabeth said, arms crossed and smirking "If I had known all it took to get you to lighten up was to joke about your crippling depression and alcoholism, I would done it a lot sooner"   
  
He laughed harder this time, feeling himself lose his balance he held onto the bar of the bridge, "Elizabeth..." He said through his laughter "Please..."   
  
Elizabeth shook her head "Alright, alright, keep walking chuckles" She helped him steady himself again and he tried to recover from his laughing fit.  "I'm sorry Elizabeth, I uh.. I know, it ain't fun."  He looked at the sky "I know it ain't fun to be around me when I'm drinking, or when I'm depressed..."  
  
"Which is all the time"   
  
"Not quite."   
  
"Yes quite, You've been moping all around since we got here.  You want to know why I can't relax and be happy about being in Paris? Because you can't"   
  
"You wanna know why I can't relax?"  He asked "Because you... what the hell happened back there in Columbia? What the hell were you going to do?"  
  
Elizabeth scoffed at him "What the hell do you think I was going to do Booker?  I was going to kill him for what he did to me."   
  
"When I met you, all you wanted to do was..."  
  
"Was what, Booker? Dance around and go to Paris? I don't know if you noticed, but I was kept prisoner by that man for a long time.... And I willingly went back with Songbird to that hell and torture.  For you.  To protect YOU"    
  
"I didn't ask you to do that, Elizabeth, don't put that on me"  
  
She looked at him, expression unreadable but her arms were crossed, so he knew she was angry.  What did she want from him anyway?  She came to Paris willingly and now she's blaming him for Comstock still living.  Why did he even bother?  
  
"Booker, I want to go home and I want you to not be there."  She said, her tone was final, there was no arguing his way out of this.  He may have been a smooth talker, but that wasn't enough for the rough edges of Elizabeth's anger.  
  
"Where am I supposed to stay?"  
  
She turned and started walking ahead of him "I don't know Booker, why don't you go to a bar or something?"  
  
He knew what she was doing, she was trying to hurt him, get him all worked up and upset about it, but he wouldn't relent, he wouldn't...  
  
He did.   He was sulking on the bridge for a near hour before heading to one of the local taverns, crowds of people speaking both in French and English had his head hurting, music playing from the record machine sounding too much like something Elizabeth would listen to.  
  
After about six drinks, he knew what he needed to do to fix things.  He was going to go back to Columbia and kill that son of a bitch.  
  
  



End file.
